You Think You Can Tell Me What To Do?
by Beth C
Summary: This is a multi chapter fic that starts out with the feud between HBK & HHH at Badd Blood. It will encompass the years 2004, 2005 and 2006 the journey of two friends that went the whole road and back again. UPDATED TO INCLUDE CHAPTER 3! R&R!
1. Instinct

You Think You Can Tell Me What To Do?

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Chapter 1: Instinct

-by Beth C

Summary: Sometimes your instincts just take over. No matter who you are. Shawn Michaels POV from the HHH vs HBK Badd Blood 2004 match.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Just couldn't get this one scene out of my mind. I'll put DX back when I'm done, in none the worse shape.

Feedback: Sure, I'd love some. but please, no flames. Flames belong to Kane. I don't play with fire.

Author's Note: This is a multi-chapter fic that starts out with the feud between HBK & HHH at Badd Blood. It will encompass the years 2004, 2005 and 2006 - the journey of two friends that went the whole road and back again. Two of the chapters that I am going to be uploading are already posted, but they are actually part of this series - Friends & Friends Again. Keep your eyes peeled for new chapters!

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I reacted on instinct. When his big hands came up and pushed me away, my training took over. I didn't mean to do it; I certainly didn't plan to do it. It just happened.

As I stumbled away from him, I turned my back towards him. Something in me realized that for a split second, he was vulnerable. I felt a small surge of adrenaline hit me and my back leg lifted; almost of its own free will. Once lifted, it was hard to stop.

It took less than a second for my booted foot to connect with his jutting chin. Sweet Chin Music.

He had been like a brother to me once. He had also been my best friend. I am still having trouble figuring out what brought us to this point, where we would hurt each other. I nailed him tonight with that superkick. Nailed him really hard too. I was supposed to pull my kick some, if I did use it at all, but I didn't think about that. I just reacted to the shove.

Instinct.

I saw his eyes roll up in his head as I heard the crack of his teeth smashing together. I barely had time to realize just what I had done before my own chemically induced energy fled my battered and bruised body. My legs gave out beneath me and I collapsed.

It was all I could do to breathe at that point. In. Out. In. Out. Deep cleansing breaths. Restful breaths designed to bring oxygen to my brain. This match had gone on way longer than I had anticipated. I was worn out. I'm pretty sure he was as well. This wasn't supposed to be an 'Iron Man' match, but I'm guessing it was running pretty close to being one. Neither of us had trained this week for a longer than 30 minute match. Now it was showing.

I could faintly hear the roar of the crowd. The reaction to my superkick from nowhere. Cheap pop. But it worked. I got a few minutes resting time that I badly needed.

I could smell my own sweat and blood. Both were everywhere. When I go into a match, I give it my all. No matter what it costs me. It's just what I do best. Show off. It always was that way and that is why so many superstars were pushed up after having a match with me. It was almost guaranteed to be a classic.

Breathe, Shawn, breathe. Focus. In. Out. Regroup and regain your strength.

Ha. I had no strength left. That kick took it all out of me. My head was pounding now. I wanted nothing more than to just lay here and allow my ex-best friend to pin me. I wanted the match over. It didn't matter if I won or lost at this point. I just needed it to end. Needed a hot shower and a warm bed.

I did have enough sense left to realize that he would not be able to pin me. Not after that kick. Maybe if I dragged my body over to where his was, I could pin him and then we could both leave this arena at last.

Maybe.

My arms felt like lead weights. My legs were not cooperating with the signals my brain was sending down. I'm sure I looked silly to the audience, dragging myself over to where he lay.

It was like climbing Mount Everest, those few feet to that fallen body. I was huffing and puffing all the way over. Sometimes I exaggerate a bit, but tonight I wasn't. It really was that hard.

It seemed to me to take forever to raise my arm and let it fall across his chest. My eyes closed from the exhaustion of my efforts. I could feel the vibrations as the referee began to slap the mat for the three count.

One.

Two.

The impossible happened then. Before the last slap could be felt, Hunter got his shoulder up.

It must have been just as instinctive as my kick had been. It certainly surprised me even though I could do nothing about it.

I struggled to my feet and watched as the world spun around me. I tried to focus on his torso in front of me. Was that my blood on his skin or his own?

Didn't matter. Blood was everywhere. On the table we had smashed. On the chairs that we had wielded. On the steel of the cage surrounding us. Even on the ladder, I had seen splatters of the crimson liquid.

I felt my body being bent over and my arms lifted behind my back as he pinned my head between his knees. Pedigree?

Instinctively, I braced for it. Tasted canvas as I was dropped harshly onto it. Harder than I was supposed to be dropped.

It's okay. Payback for my full strength superkick I suppose. Only fair. I landed on my stomach. Breathing harshly. Pain radiating from my over abused muscles. Crowd chanting something unintelligible. I can't hear clearly.

Why haven't I been rolled over and pinned? Minutes passing in a haze. Breathe, Shawn, breathe. Concentrate. Move.

Can't move. Hurts too much. Aches too badly to consider.

Feel myself lifted up again. Bent over again. Another Pedigree?

Head. Canvas. Pain. Falling on my back. Crowd yelling. Blackness closing in. Dark. Soothing…cooling…quiet.

Time stops.

The next thing I am fully aware of is that someone is lightly slapping my face. Go away. Leave me be.

More slaps and I open my eyes. Cage above me. Cage? Steel cage? Where am I?

Awareness hits me next. Cage match with Hunter. I must have blacked out after that last Pedigree. Guess I lost. I struggle to sit up and feel the referee helping me to stand. I hear my music begin to play.

The crowd responds with a roar. Guess they are glad I'm not dead. I fall to my knees and rest my head in my hands. At least this match is over. It took long enough. I can't wait to find out just how long we went. Seemed like forever. Probably was.

I realize that Hunter is not in the ring. I hope that he hadn't had to be stretchered out. I really had meant to pull that kick. I know I'm gonna catch hell for it later, in the locker room.

I just hope he can forgive me. He won the match, after all. He did turn out to be the stronger man.

I just want us to be friends again. I want this bloodshed to stop.

I'm finally able to stand, and I roll myself under the bottom rope. I walk slowly up the ramp, trying to smile all the way. I must look quite a sight to behold with my blood streaked and sweat matted hair hanging off me.

The crowd doesn't seem to care. They cheer me all the way back to the entrance to the locker rooms. It's all good. They got their money's worth.

Now I've gotta go face him. Tell him that it was just pure instinct, nothing more, nothing personal.

Apologize.

And hope we can be friends.


	2. Aftermath

Chapter 2: Aftermath

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Shawn was met backstage by a plethora of people and the on-call medical staff. Some wanted to check on his injuries, some just wanted to congratulate him on a match well fought.

Vince was at the head of the group, and he helped usher Shawn to the makeshift first aid station they had set up. It had been about 10 minutes now since the match had ended. Hunter had already been treated and released to the locker room.

Almost as soon as Shawn sat, the senior doctor was shining a light into his eyes, one by one. He then began to bombard Shawn with questions.

"Can you tell me the year?"

"2004." Shawn replied as another physician began examining his swollen right hand. The knuckles were at least twice the size they should have been.

"What is your name?"

"Michael Shawn Hickenbottom." He always answered with his real name. It was something that had been agreed upon in advance of any brutal match. If he was ever hit hard enough that he didn't recall his real name, then they would know to admit him to the nearest medical facility for tests.

"Who is the president?"

"Mickey Mouse." Shawn saw a momentary flash of alarm cross the doctor's face before he realized he was being ribbed. Shawn smiled slightly. "George Bush. But it's the same thing."

The doctor snorted. He wiped off the blood on Shawn's forehead and tended the cut. "I wish you wouldn't blade yourself so deeply."

"Sorry. It wasn't my intention to go deep. Sort of a rush job." He pulled the small piece of razor blade out from his taped wrist and threw it in the trash can nearby.

The second doctor had applied an ice pack to the injured hand. Shawn glanced down at it, causing the first doctor to mutter about him not keeping still.

"Sorry." Shawn muttered, feeling anything but. His whole body was aching, and he just wanted a shower and a bed. "How's my hand?"

The second doctor was making notes in a chart. "It will be fine. Nothing broken, but it has been badly bruised. Keep the ice on it for a few minutes more, then ice it again before bed tonight."

The first doctor was making notes as well, and checking on Shawn's back. He asked questions pertaining to how much mobility Shawn had and where it hurt the most. Shawn knew he was going to have to get a full physical when he got back to San Antonio.

Finally after another 15 minutes and an agreement that if he started to feel the full effects of a concussion that he seek immediate medical treatment, Shawn was allowed to go shower and change. Vince had watched the whole time Shawn was being treated and took careful note of the injuries listed on the charts.

Shawn passed a few of the wrestlers on the way to the locker room. A few patted him on the back and told him that no matter how it had ended, he had still done a great job out there. Shawn nodded politely and entered the locker room.

Hunter was in there, finishing up his own routine of changing and putting his stuff back into his gym bag. Shawn wanted to say something to the other man about the superkick but he didn't know where to start. His head was killing him, as was his back and hand. He didn't think there was any part of him that didn't hurt.

He decided to try to break the ice. The match was over, Hunter had proven himself stronger and better, so what did he have to lose? "Hey, Hunter."

The Game looked up. "Hi Shawn." He zipped up the bag and slung it over one shoulder. "Overall not a bad match."

Shawn nodded and walked over to his locker. "Yeah." He paused only a second then sighed. "About the kick…"

Hunter rubbed his jaw. "Since when do you use full strength kicks in the ring?"

"I don't. Normally. I'm not sure what came over me..." Shawn started to say but was interrupted.

"Was it something I was doing?" Hunter placed one hand on his hip and the other hand on Shawn's locker, preventing the other man from taking his gym bag out. "I thought we had an agreement going into the ring, or did you decide to change that at the last minute?"

Shawn sat wearily on the bench between the lockers. Why couldn't this have waited until he was showered and cleaner? "It wasn't like that, and it's not like you didn't get me back for it."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Those two Pedigrees weren't exactly pulled in either." Shawn argued as he stood again and pushed Hunter's hand off the locker door. He extracted his gym bag and pulled his towel out of it.

Hunter suddenly looked disturbed. "Two Pedigrees? Shawn, I gave you three."

The world started to spin and Shawn hastily sat back down on the bench. He leaned over and rested his elbows on his thighs then placed his head on the palms of his hands. He waited for the inevitable.

"Shawn, are you okay? Did you get cleared to come back here?" Hunter's voice held a note of genuine concern. He knew it was not beyond his former friend to skip the medical treatment after a match.

Shawn sighed. He was quite irritable now, and full of exhaustion. He had tried to apologize and found Hunter less than cooperative, and now he was having trouble just getting his shower. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone for a few minutes? "I got cleared." He replied testily. "And there were only two Pedigrees. Why do you always have to exaggerate?"

"There were three," Hunter stated. "Check the master tape if you don't believe me."

"Two or three, whatever." Shawn finally found the world had stopped spinning. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go get cleaned up." He stood and pushed past the larger man, not caring if Hunter replied or not.

Shawn could feel the other man's eyes boring into his back as he walked away. It didn't matter. He found the showers and hung his towel up on the rack. He turned the hot water on so that it would be ready once he undressed.

He heard the locker room door open then close. Hopefully that would be Hunter leaving. Maybe tomorrow he would be better prepared to deal with the other man at the taping of RAW, but tonight he was just to weary.

He sat down and removed his boots and socks, taking the time to rub the instep of his left foot. It was about the only part of his body that didn't ache. He stood up and removed his trunks, balling them up and placing them on top of his boots.

The first step into the shower was like pure heaven. Hot water cascaded down over his body easing some of the ache from his muscles. He stood there silently just enjoying the feel of the water.

He then ducked his head under the steamy spray, watching as the water turned to crimson at his feet. He grabbed the bar of soap that was on the rack and quickly lathered his body up. Even that felt good. He had to be careful when washing his back, for if he turned the wrong way he would get spasms of excruciating pain.

Body now washed he rinsed again and took the small bottle of shampoo off the shelf. He usually brought his own, but tonight he would just use what the WWE had provided for their stars. Something was better than nothing after all. He lathered up his hair and then rinsed the suds out until the water at his feet ran clear.

Just as he was turning to shut the water off another wave of dizziness washed over him. He leaned forward onto the tiles and rested his head on his arms. This time however, the wave didn't just pass over him. It built up until the floor tilted from under his feet. As he began to fall, he reached for anything he could find to break the fall, but there was nothing to grab but wet tile. He had a momentary twinge of regret that he had sent Hunter out of the locker room and now was alone before having his body hit the tiled ground.

The impact was mainly on his back, as he tried to use his arms to break his fall, but the back of his head did make contact with the hard wet tiles. Mercifully, before the pain could register fully, he blacked out under the stinging spray.

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	3. Defiance

Chapter 3: Defiance

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Cold. Freezing cold. As he came aware, it was the first sensation he recognized. The air also smelled funny, as it didn't have the odor associated with stadiums. This air was cleaner. More…sterile? It took him a few tries to get his eyes to open, and when he did, the first thing he saw was white. White ceiling, white walls, standard nondescript curtains drawn across a window to keep out the light during the day and cloak the room in darkness at night.

Hospital. He was in a hospital bed.

He lifted his left hand and noticed an IV snaking out from a needle that was taped to his hand. He must have been here a while. He lifted his swollen right hand and touched his head. No bandages, but there was a sizable lump from where he had hit the tile. As he probed it, pain shot into his skull and he hissed to keep from crying out.

The sound alone caused a person sleeping in a chair in the corner to jump and waken. Shawn hadn't noticed anyone in the room, but then it was rather shadowy in here.

"Oh, thank God, you are finally awake." The voice belonged to Vince's daughter, Stephanie McMahon. She stood and walked towards the bed, rubbing her eyes as she did so. "Cover your eyes; I'm going to turn the light on."

Shawn used his right hand to shield his face as the room clicked into brightness. He lowered his hand and could see her clearly now. She looked exhausted and her clothes were rumpled.

Shawn licked his dry lips. Whatever was in the IV was making him thirsty. He noticed a pitcher and glass on the bedside table. Obviously whoever had set him up had known he was going to need a drink upon awakening. He tried to reach for it, but Stephanie stopped him.

"Stay put. I'll get it for you." She poured him a small glass and handed it to him.

He took it gratefully and sipped at it. "Thanks," his voice was at first a croak but as he drank it grew steadily stronger. "How long have I been out?"

"About six hours, give or take." She waited until he finished his first cup and then refilled it. "You had everyone very scared and worried, Shawn."

He frowned and sipped slowly at the cool liquid. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with Hunter?"

She shrugged. "Dad thought it would be a good idea if someone stayed with you. It wouldn't do well for you to wake up alone and confused." After he drained the second cup she tried to refill it again, but he refused. She took the empty cup and placed it on the table next to the pitcher.

"Has my wife been called?"

"Yes, she has been notified, but she couldn't get a flight out right away. She's flying in tomorrow."

Shawn sighed. He hated to have to drag her and his son all the way to Ohio. She was due with their second baby in a few months. "Call her back and tell her I'm okay. I don't want her getting on a plane in her condition." He rubbed a weary hand across his face and sighed again.

"Will you be okay for a few minutes?" She asked.

He nodded being careful not to move his head too much. "Where are you going?"

"I've got to notify the doctor and everyone in the waiting room that you are awake."

"Who's out there?" He frowned wondering who else would have thought to sleep in a hospital waiting room.

"Well, there is Shane; and Dad of course; umm, Hunter and JR."

He closed his eyes, feeling still very tired. "Go get the doc."

She started to move away but a sudden thought made him call out her name and she stopped.

"Who found me, Steph?" He had a pretty good idea who had found him but he wanted to hear it for himself.

She bit her lip, knowing how the two ex-best friends had been feuding for so long. "Hunter did." She paused to see what that bit of information was going to do, and when the only reaction she got was a tightening of Shawn's face, she continued. "He had left the locker room to come find me, but decided that you were not really acting like yourself and went back in. He found you out cold under the shower."

Shawn didn't reply, but he did open his eyes again and looked at her.

She hated the emotion that she saw behind those hazel orbs. It was a mixture of embarrassment, pain, loneliness and emotional hurt. She could guess that Shawn would have rather have been found by anyone else. "I'll be right back."

She turned and left the room, leaving the door cracked so that he could just make out the corridor beyond.

In less than a minute, the door opened and Vince came in, followed by Hunter. Both men looked weary but upon seeing Shawn awake they looked relieved. Vince approached the bed first leaving Hunter halfway between the bed and the door.

"Shawn, I'm so glad you are okay."

Shawn snorted. "If you can call this okay." He lifted the hand with the IV in it. "What's in here, anyway? It's making my head feel swimmy."

Vince shrugged. Hunter approached the bed carefully and read the bag that was hanging down. "It's a sugar-water solution mixed with a painkiller that I can not pronounce."

"Figures." Shawn muttered, keeping his face carefully averted from Hunter's gaze.

Before the other man could say another word, Stephanie returned with the Doctor. Everyone stepped back from the bed so the Doctor could examine Shawn.

"Hi, Mr. Hickenbottom, I'm Dr. Kenneth Walden." He introduced himself. "I hear you took a nasty fall today." He picked up Shawn's chart and read over it quickly then placed it back and began to take his vitals. "How are you feeling, son?"

"Dizzy." Shawn replied truthfully. "How long am I going to be here?"

"Well now, that depends on quite a few things. I'm told that you are a professional wrestler." He picked the chart up again and started making a few notes on it.

"That's right." Shawn looked past the balding man to where Vince was standing. "And before you ask I already know that I might have suffered a concussion."

Vince motioned to Stephanie to come closer. He whispered something in her ear. She nodded then turned to Hunter and pointed towards herself and the door. He nodded back at her and she left the room.

The doctor waited until he had Shawn's attention again before speaking. "We want to keep you here for a few days to run some tests. The falls you took in the ring coupled with the fall in the shower did indeed provoke a concussion."

"No." Shawn said plainly. "No tests."

Stephanie came back into the room carrying Vince's briefcase. He took it from her with a nod and placed it on the chair where she had been sleeping previously.

"Mr. Hickenbottom it really is in your best interests that you get the CAT scans and MRI done to determine the extent of the damage." The elderly man looked down at him.

Shawn would have none of it. "I have a doctor back home. When I get back there, I'll get the tests done then."

"Shawn," Hunter spoke up and moved closer to the bed. "I think you should listen to the doctor here. He knows what should be done for you."

"Who asked you for your opinion?" Shawn stated and looked at his former best friend for the first time. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't even be here tonight."

That one sentence was like a slap to Hunter's face. Stephanie could see it harden right before her eyes. She knew her husband could take a lot of physical punishment in the ring but emotionally in some ways he was very vulnerable. Shawn had just found a chink in the Game's armor. She placed one hand on Hunter's arm but he shook it off. "Well, excuse me for living!" He barked out at Shawn and then stormed from the room.

She watched him leave then looked to her father, then the doctor – who had wisely remained silent during this exchange – before letting her eyes fall onto Shawn. "That was completely uncalled for! How dare you treat him that way! If it wasn't for him, you'd still be in that locker room." She was angry and didn't care who saw right now. "Shawn, this might be hard for you to get into your thick skull but Hunter does care about you."

"Yeah, those three Pedigrees he gave me showed me that." Shawn knew he was being obstinate, but he just wanted to get out of the bed or just have everyone leave. He didn't care which right now.

Stephanie moved to slap him but caught herself at the last moment. "Fine, Shawn. Be that way. Go AMA if you want. See if we care anymore. You and that stupid match; just because he beat you!" She then turned away and stomped out of the room after her husband.

Shawn sighed and looked towards the doctor. "Get my release papers drawn up. I have a plane ticket for later today and I plan to be on that plane."

"If that is what you truly wish, we can't hold you here against your will. I'll get a nurse to unhook the IV and bring in the forms to sign."

"It is." Shawn stated. "I'm leaving."

The doctor nodded. "I do recommend that you seek out your own doctor as soon as possible." He nodded towards Vince then left the room.

Shawn closed his eyes, not wanting to talk to Vince. He knew exactly what the other man was going to say next and he didn't want to hear it.

Vince didn't disappoint him. "Shawn, you are acting like a spoiled child! You know that the WWE will not cover you by going against medical advice! What the hell are you thinking?"

Shawn waved him away. "Go home, Vince, or to whatever fancy hotel room you have this week."

"Do you know how worried everyone was when they heard? Do you have any clue how scared everyone got? Especially Hunter? Do you?" Vince stated with a small growl. "No one has been to bed, no one has moved from that waiting room for the fear of missing some important news about you." He got right into Shawn's face for the next part. "And you treated them just like crap. I don't mind if you are going to do that to me, but, you are damn well not going to treat my daughter like that and you should be damned grateful that Hunter was there to find you."

He stepped back and picked up his briefcase. "I'll have Shane bring your gym bag up from the limo." Without another word, he turned and left the room.

Shawn rubbed his hand across his stubbled cheek. Boy he had handled that one well. Not only did he piss off his boss, but he had verbally attacked his former best friend and his wife. Even the doctor had looked at him like he was nuts.

Way to screw up your life, Shawn. Way to go.

He was just about to turn from the door and try to get a little bit of rest when JR walked in. He stepped up to Shawn's bedside. "Hey there, son. I'm only going to stay a minute but I wanted to let you know that I'm glad you are alright. You had us all very worried, kid."

Shawn bit his lip to keep his emotions in check. If anyone was going to get to him, it would be this man standing right in front of him. "Thanks, JR." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Listen, I'm a bit in over my head here. I just said and did some things that I really shouldn't have."

"I kind of got that impression with people storming past the waiting room." JR said quietly. "It will be alright, son. Everyone is just on edge right now with the Pay Per View having just ended and no one getting any sleep."

Shawn nodded slowly. "I hope so. Can you do me one favor?" He could feel tears starting to well up behind his eyes, knowing that he had no one else he could ask. He didn't want to let them out in front of JR though.

"Just name it."

"Call my wife. Tell her I'm okay, and not to fly out here. I'll be home in a few days and I don't need to worry about her in her condition." He knew JR would understand. He was fighting back his tears now, wanting to be with her and not in this cold, sterile room. She would understand him, she would comfort him and tell him the things he needed to hear right now.

"Sure, Shawn, I'll call her for you."

"Thank you." Shawn let the weariness into his voice now. He was still tired from having the match and now he was emotionally worn out as well.

"If you need anything else, all you have to do is ask." JR took and squeezed Shawn's hand lightly. "You know that."

Shawn nodded again. "Yes, I do."

"You get some rest now. I'll keep you updated." He gave Shawn's hand one more squeeze and then left the room to make the call.

Now that he was alone, he sighed heavily and finally let the tears out. If he was honest with himself, he would say that he was scared. He didn't want the tests here out in the middle of nowhere, because he wasn't sure what they would show. He had never blacked out like that in a match before and never like in the locker room. He was scared and worried and extremely tired. He let the tears slide silently down his face as he realized that he had probably just alienated any chance of making up with Hunter for good.

Way to go, Shawn. Way to go.

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End file.
